


Don't Hold Back

by TaergaLive



Series: Baldur's Gate 3 one-shots [5]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28228272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaergaLive/pseuds/TaergaLive
Summary: "'Is the reason you, you...hang around me so much because you think I’m...weak and easy to manipulate?'"“'My turn for a question. Do you only ‘hang around’ with me because you find me attractive?'”The gang beats up some goblins, and Sephrin learns something about herself.
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Baldur's Gate 3 one-shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061618
Kudos: 44





	Don't Hold Back

**Author's Note:**

> This one almost killed me. I hate writing fight scenes. Did I mention I hate writing fight scenes? UUUUGH but I struggled through it. And now I can finally get to the fun stuff :)

Hugging the wall, Glynren strains his ears, trying to listen to the conversation happening in the next room. Silhouettes of two figures dance upon the wall, exaggerated shadows elongated by the flickering candlelight. But even in the tenebrous room, he could garner that one figure was taller than the goblins. 

“An archer is posted on the high wall,” Lae’zel mutters, keeping an eye on said archer. 

Gale grips his staff. “Another one patrolling the floor.”

Four so far. Glynren nods. “Very well. We talk first, see if they have any information. Then we can decide if they’re worth the fight.

Lae’zel growls. “We have the element of surprise. We shouldn’t waste that.”

“There might be more scouting in the area,” Wyll retorts. “I agree with Glyn. We should play it safe.” 

Without waiting for Lae’zel to agree, Glynren steps away from the wall and saunters into the room. The goblin walking gives him a passing glance, and the one posted on top the wall trains his bow on him only to lower it when Glynren and the others keep their weapons sheathed. This seems to be the case with the goblins, and it confuses Glynren greatly. He would have thought, given what the others have told him about goblins, that they would attack anyone on sight. But these goblins seem to attack only when it benefits them or when provoked. It makes him wonder what the Tieflings did to piss them off so badly. 

As they get closer, Glynren notes the taller one is definitely not a goblin but a drow. He hears Gale murmur, “Not what I was expecting,” but doesn’t comment on it. The drow hardly regards them at first as she was too busy berating the goblin she was speaking with. 

“Your scouting party still hasn’t returned,” she snaps at the goblin. “And half of the intruders eluded your guards.”

The goblin shuffles his feet. “Er, yes, well-”

Leaning down, the drow lowers her voice to a callous timbre. “Until the sanctuary is found, I will take something precious from you... _ every hour that passes. _ A trinket perhaps, a tongue... _ a limb _ .”

Nervously, the goblin holds his hands up. “Ain’t no use without me limbs, mistress. We’ll find it! The lads’ll get the prisoner squealing right quick, I swear.”

Glynren tries not to smile. The goblin didn’t yet realize the prisoner was freed only a few minutes ago. 

“Silence, you pathetic creature,” the drow hisses. “Silence, or I will silence you forever.” 

As the group had an appointment with her, she turns to them calmly, eyes passing over each one. Each, in turn, feels their minds shiver as her gaze meets theirs. Annoying as it was, they were getting used to this sensation. The link. A tadpole.

She sneers. “True Souls? In such grotesque forms? Her heart is more generous than mine.” Though she doesn’t say it, Glynren can tell she’s talking about this accursed Absolute that everyone keeps mentioning. “Join my hunt, and obey me.”

That’s enough for Glynren to decide that she was going to die, but he wants to get as much information out of her as he can. “What are we hunting?” 

Her sneer grows. “Worshippers of a false god. Their very existence is an affront to the Absolute. The thief whimpering in the dungeon tried to flee to their sanctuary. Until he tells us where it is, we will continue to remove parts of him, bit by bit.” 

Again, Glynren tries to keep his face neutral. He hadn’t realized just how bad that druid prisoner was going to get it. He hopes the druid managed to get out of the lair on his own. Instead, he tilts his head. “I can get him to talk.” 

She runs her eyes over him but eventually nods. “Excellent. Be sure not to kill him before he talks.” 

Once the party is out of earshot, Wyll glues himself to Glyren’s side. “What are you doing? She cannot be allowed to find the sanctuary. We should have ended her while we had the chance.” Lae’zel grunts in agreement. 

“I know,” Glynren nods. It seems odd to him that the further into this adventure the delve, the more he seems to be consulted as the leader of this group. He’s not sure why. Perhaps because he is usually able to get along with all of them. Or most of them. He grimaces as he thinks of the vampire, replaying his sister’s memory of the bite. Seeing that memory as he prodded her mind sparked a flame in him he never knew he had. He had sworn to protect her, and he had failed. 

But it isn’t the time to dwell on that. He continues, “But I want to give the prisoner more time to escape. Plus, we still need to find the healer. He’s got to be around here somewhere.”

“Right,” Gale muses. “The Druid-turned-bear.”

Glynren looks to Lae’zel. “If you found a bear, what would you do?”

“Kill it and consume it,” she responds without missing a beat. 

He smiles. “Then let’s find where they’d keep their livestock.”

______

“Can I ask you something...without you making fun of me?”

The question came after a few minutes of silence. It pulls Astarion out of his thoughts. He and Sephrin had been sitting on a table, waiting for Shadowheart to complete her task. The shadow-worshipping cleric felt overwhelmed by the presence of Selûne; she insisted she needed to “find as many of her remaining relics as she can and smash them to oblivion.” That sounded tedious and boring, so Astarion opted to wait for her, and naturally he volunteered Sephrin to keep him company. 

The two had been sitting in silence pensively. Astarion had been reflecting on the tadpole, trying to figure out if there was a way to utilize it further. If it allows him to walk in sunlight and enter homes freely, what’s stopping it from doing so much more? Sephrin was apparently thinking about something else. 

He puts on his usual smug smile. “Well, that would depend entirely on the question. But go on.”

Sephrin doesn’t respond right away. Her knees pulled up to her chest, she fiddles with a torn bit of her boot. In truth, she was still forming the question in her head when she spoke. She was still debating if she even  _ wanted _ to ask. But the words had tumbled out of her before she could stop herself. 

Finally, she sighs. “Do...is the reason you, you...hang around me so much because you think I’m...weak and easy to manipulate?” 

The question, or rather the bluntness of it, leaves Astarion pleasantly surprised. He chuckles. “Straight to the point. I like it. But what makes  _ you  _ think  _ I _ think you’re weak?”

“You saw how I fought,” she hugs herself tighter. “And you see how I am around the others, around people.” 

“True,” he concedes with a smirk. “But in a similar vein, you’ve managed to survive everything that the world has thrown at you so far. Mind flayers, a trip through Avernmus, falling from the bloody sky. And now look where you are: in the mists of savage goblins, ready for the kill.”

He speaks of her “accolades” like a bard reciting an epic. Though it sends her heart racing, it also sends her into deeper despair. “Yes, but so have you,” she murmurs. 

His smirk grows, a fang poking his lower lip. “Then wouldn’t that make us  _ both _ weak?”

Her face heats up. He’s trapped her again, and he knows it. Still, she’s not sure why he did so. Why was he trying to convince her she wasn’t weak? 

She doesn’t get to ask, because he hops off the table, standing in front of her. He tilts his head, still smirking. “My turn for a question. Do  _ you  _ only ‘hang around’ with me because you find me attractive?” 

For a moment, her brain stops. At first, she thinks it’s the worm finally taking over. But Astarion’s proximity snaps her back. That was it. That was the missing puzzle piece, the code to crack the cipher. She couldn’t understand why she would tell Astarion that she trusted him, let him drink her blood, and cling to him for safety when, at the same time, he made her feel so uneasy. She couldn’t understand why she was constantly observing him, sneaking peeks at him whenever he wasn’t looking, watching the corners of his lips twitch when he smiled, studying his eyes.

It was attraction. She was attracted to him. 

“I...didn’t know…” she whispers. 

Astarion outright laughs. “Didn’t know? Dear girl, how did  _ I _ know and you  _ not _ ? It’s written rather clearly on your pretty, red face.”

Of course, that makes her face turn redder as she tries to hide her face against her knees. “I, it’s not something I’m used to. I’ve never, never really found someone attractive before. People spoke about it all the time, and I never understood what it was like.”

He cocks a brow and then chuckles. “Well, then, consider me  _ honored _ .” He pauses. “You know, you’re not terrible looking yourself, darling.”

Could her skin burn any hotter? It’s then she realizes the way she’s sitting gives him a good view up her skirt, and though her leggings are thick, she quickly drops her legs down to dangle over the table. Indeed, Astarion’s eyes were lingering by her legs. The abruptness of the action makes his nose crinkle with amusement.

It was odd. Sitting on the table put her at eye level with him. Her eyes dart from his own to the wall behind him back to his eyes to his mouth to the ceiling and over and over again. The moment felt like an hour but was really merely seconds. Before she could stop herself, she leans forward and presses her lips against his in what has to be the most chaste kiss of Astarion’s life. Yet the way she recoils and her expression would make one think she did more than that. 

“I, I, I’m sor-” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence. Astarion cups her right cheek and presses their lips together again for a more “proper” kiss. At first, he thought she had honestly never kissed before, but the way she reciprocates and allows him to deepen it makes him realize he was wrong. His other hand rests on the table, lingering by her side but not yet holding onto her. Both her hands end up clutching at the front of his doublet, knuckles white as if afraid he’ll leave. Or that her hands would try to wander elsewhere. 

The kiss ends when Sephrin suddenly ducks away, hiding her rosy cheeks against his chest. The hand that was resting on her cheek moves to the top of her head, patting it gently. He tries very hard not to laugh. A little sigh startles them, Sephin practically flinging Astarion away. He glances toward the doorway where Shadowheart enters, clapping the dust off her hands.    
  


“I feel much better now,” she chirps, “Having smashed Selûne’s face into pieces.” 

“I’m a little disappointed I missed it,” Astarion chuckles. His posture and expression are back normal as if nothing had just occurred. Sephrin, meanwhile, looks absolutely scandalized. 

Shadowheart looks from one to the other but then shrugs. “Shall we get a move on?” 

Without a word, Sephrin slides off the table and makes her way out of the room. Shadowheart watches her before giving Astarion a curious look. But he merely shrugs with that smug smile of his and saunters after the girl. 

Shadowheart shakes her head. “I definitely missed something,” she comments before following as well. 

______

The low bellow echoes through the makeshift dungeon, followed by youthful laughter. From where they stood, Wyll and the others could see the bear slumped behind bars.

“It squealed! It squealed!” one child claps. “Hit it again!” 

The other child picks up a rock and flings it at the bear. It rears on its hind legs, crying out, batting the rock away with its paw. 

“Look like that’s our druid,” Wyll says. 

Lae’zel grunts. “Or an actual bear.” 

“I’m not sure,” Gale ponders. “I feel as though a real bear would put up more of a fight.” 

The child again throws another rock. This time the bear ducks its head, but the rock still lands a hit. An older goblin praises the child for his excellent aim. 

Glynren shrugs. “50/50 aren’t bad odds.” He steps forward, gaining the attention of the goblins. 

The older goblin looks him over. “What do you want?”

He gestures to the bear. “What are you doing?”

“Squeal! Squeal!” the one child shouts. 

“We’re juicing him up,” the older goblin answers. “Those robbers was using him. He killed Dink and Mince too. Boss’s thinking of serving him to the worgs. Meat tastes better when it’s beaten.” 

“And,” the child interrupts. “It makes funny noises!”

What depraved children. Glynren wondered if it was learned or inherited. 

The child looks around. “Find me a rock. I’ll show you!” 

While the two children look for a rock to throw, Glynren studies the bear. It looks tired, but it stares intently at Glynren as if trying to tell him something. He tries to see what he can do to open the gate, but he quickly realizes something. There’s nothing holding the gate in place. 

“Maybe we should throw rocks at you,” Glynren says to the children. “Or better yet, maybe I should let this bear do it.” 

He grabs at the gate, pulling it toward him. The bear notices what he’s doing and rears back before slamming against the gate. Glynren gets out of the way just before the gate crashes to the ground. The children quickly scamper off, but the adult readies her ax, whistling loudly. This seems to set off the worgs in the other cages, as they start beating themselves against the gates. It doesn’t take long for them to break out and join their master. 

Between the four of them, it doesn’t take long to take down the goblin, but the worgs are another story. There are only two of them, but they are vicious, bred to kill with violent rage. They pair up, Wyll and Lae’zel taking one worg, Gale and Glynren taking the other. The bear attacks whichever one it can get its claws into. When they down the last worg, they breathe a little easier.

The bear stands on its hind legs again, and slowly gives way to a elf. He’s dressed as the other druids were, but Glynren is surprised at how muscular he is. All the others seemed so lanky. 

The elf smiles at Glynren. “You freed a bear. I can’t tell if you’re a friend to nature or just a lunatic. Either way, I owe you my thanks. I am the druid Halsin.” 

“Finally,” Lae’zel grumbles. 

Gale claps his hands together. “Excellent. We’ve been looking for you. You see, we have a bit of a problem…”

Halsin looks to Gale, then to the others. “You have a look about you. I’ve seen it before. Are you feeling alright?”

They look at each other. Then Glynren sighs. “Were infected with mind flayer tadpoles.” 

The druid nods as if he was expecting that answer. “I see. That is the very blight I came here to investigate.” He regards them strangely. “Though I thought all of the afflicted were working together. Seems I was wrong.”

“We’re just as lost as you are on the matter,” Gale chimes. 

“I will do my best to help you,” Halsin shifts. “But before that, there’s work to do.”

Glynren crosses his arms. “Protecting the grove.” 

“Does this mean we can kill the drow now?” Lae’zel and Wyll seem to ask at the same time. 

“Guess so,” Glynren shrugs.

They part ways with Halsin, promising to meet up with him once the leaders are taken care of. The prisoner they had freed has to have escaped by now; if not, it was too late. They couldn’t wait on this any longer. 

“We shouldn’t waste time,” Lae’zel suggests as they get closer to the makeshift office. “Let’s start the assault as soon as we enter.” 

Glynren gets his sword out and nods. “Agreed. We need to end this now and get back to the grove.” 

The moment they enter, Gale launches a ball of flame at the archer. The goblin screams out, trying to beat out the flames before stepping off the platform and smashing to the ground. The patrolman swings around, sneering at the attackers as he pulls out his blade. 

“Idiots!” the drow bellows, leaping over the table, brandishing her mace. The goblin next to her pulls out a bow. 

It doesn’t take long to overpower the goblin patrolman as Lae’zel knocks him down a hole in the floor. The sickening crunch of bones confirms the kill. The archer lets loose a string of arrows. A few hit their marks on the arm, one wedging into Gale’s staff, which makes him frown. But a few slashes with a sword, a few blasts of magic, and both he and the drow fall. With a wet squelch, the tadpole slips out of her eye. It hisses at them before trying to scurry away. Hastily, the four of them try to stomp it. It’s Wyll that feels the squish under his foot, much to his chagrin. 

“Ugh,” he scraps the remains off his boot. “Shall we get going?” 

“Please,” Gale grumbles. “After all this bloodshed, I’m going to need a bath.”

______

The vampire and his two half-elf companions crouch by a low wall. They observe the landing below. Four goblins seem to be performing a ritual, a beastly hobgoblin leading them. 

“It’s one of the mind flayers,” Shadowheart murmurs, nodding her head toward the middle of the landing. The creature lay upon the ground, its tentacles twitching.

Instinctively, Sephrin tries to slide back, to distance herself from the danger, but the cold hand between her shoulders keeps her in place. Despite her fear, her mind is still reeling from earlier when that cold hand was on her face. When his lips were

STOP, STOP. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to focus. 

Astarion runs a tongue over his teeth. “This is a good vantage point. Stay covered and cover us from up here.”

Shadowheart gawks at him. “Are you mad? We’re outnumbered.” 

He smiles. “Well, if you’d like to extend your stay in Selûne’s temple…”

“Fine,” she rolls her eyes before giving Sephrin a pointed look. “ _ Don’t _ hit me.” 

That doesn’t make Sephrin feel any more confident, but she swallows the lump in her throat and nods, feebly prepping the bow. Meanwhile, the other two sneak over to the staircase, descending as quietly as they can. Once prepped, Shadowheart flung a spell at the hobgoblin. At the same time, Astarion ran up and stabbed the closest goblin in the arm. The tiefling grunts as he’s hit and the goblin hisses in pain. And so the battle commences. 

Astarion didn’t think the goblins would be too much of an issue, but their hobgoblin leader was quite the handful. Whenever he’d try to focus on one of the goblins, the big guy would come charging with his hammer. Sometimes, it helped; when he or Shadowheart managed to get out of the way in time, the brute would smash one of his own troops. About the third time it happens, the unlucky goblin flies across the room, crashing into the doors. It manages to knock that goblin out, but the ones in the next room notice the fray and jump in to help their brethren. 

“Remember when I mentioned being outnumbered?” Shadowheart quips. 

If looks could kill. Shadowheart just gives him a smug smile before stabbing her sword through her foe. 

Up above, Sephrin keeps an eye on her two companions, her stomach churning. Though she still had her reservations, she finds it easier to use the bow to defend her allies than when she was defending herself. But the distance and the moving targets are more difficult to hit. Mostly, she’s missed, a few times having arrows bounce off the solid armor. When the reinforcements started pouring in, she felt the world spin. They were going to die. This is how they were going to die. 

But fate had other plans. Through the same doors the goblins came from, the rest of the party gives chase. The second Sephrin sees her brother run through the door, her heart soars. The scale was starting to tip. 

“It’s about time you showed up!” Astarion calls out, kicking a goblin back. “We’ve been doing your work for you.”

Glynren slices the goblin Astarion kicked, glaring at the vampire. “Where’s Sephrin?”

Astarion gestures to the balcony before darting off for his next prey. Up above, Sephrin grabs another arrow only to realize it’s her last one. Shit! She glances around her as if she’ll find more just lying around. Whining, she nocks the arrow, glancing over the side, assessing the battle. When her head pops up over the railing, Glynren’s eyes widen. But he doesn’t have time to worry. 

As the battle continues, Sephrin glances up, noticing the hanging brazier gently swinging. Then she looks down. Then back up. Pulling the arrow back, she prays she hit it; otherwise, she was going to feel very, very stupid. The arrow zings through the rope. The brazier twirls, the rope hanging on by a thread. She crosses her fingers, watching the rope give way. With a snap, the brazier finally plummets toward the landing and breaks atop the hobgoblin’s head, embers scattering around him. Some of the goblins cry out as the burning ash hits their eyes. The hobgoblin wobbles a bit before falling on his face. Not one to take chances, Lae’zel jams her sword through his skull. 

With their leader dead, the rest of the troops go down easily, blood and innards saturating the stone floor. While victorious, the party feels winded. 

Wyll puts a tired fist in the air. “We did it,” he pants. “That was the last of the leaders.”

Sephrin comes running down the stairs and throws her arms around her brother. She hadn’t realized how worried she was about him until she saw him. When she pulls away, though, he gives her a hard look.

“What were you thinking?” he chides. 

Sephrin blenches. “I-I…”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he continues. Though he still scolds her, his expression softens to show his concern. “I told you if anything bad happened to get as far away as possible!” 

Before she can answer, Wyll butts in. “Uh, guys? We have a problem.”

Glynren turns to him. “What?” 

Wyll gestures to Gale, who doesn’t seem to be getting up. Glynren’s face pales. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to clear out the goblins, help the tieflings, and get cured. All of them. 

“Hello!” A strange yet familiar voice called out. In a flash, a second Gale stands before them. Glynren flinches, and Sephrin yelps, covering her mouth. 

“G-Gale?” Glynren squints. 

“Well met,” Second Gale continues. “I am a magical projection of Gale of Waterdeep, and if you are seeing this manifestation, that means I have prematurely perished.” 

“What the actual fuck,” Wyll whispers. 

The manifestation continues, “However, for reasons that cannot be disclosed, it is of vital importance that my death be remedied at your earliest convenience. You may rest assure that I do not speak out of self-preservation alone; many lives depend on my return to the living within the span of two days.” He holds up two fingers as if they didn’t know what the number two was. “I trust I’ve made myself clear.” 

The group stares at him. But finally Glynren nods. “Yeah, sure, of course.” 

The manifestation smiles. “I have upon my deceased person a magical item that can accomplish my return, but such is its value and rarity that it is protected by a multi-layered security protocol. I will now explain the protocol.” 

“Oh, for the love of…” Shadowheart mumbles. But Glynren shushes her. 

“Step one is to retrieve from my person a pouch I wear over my heart. Next, you must unthread the purple seam that seals it in a counterclockwise fashion. Do not touch any other colored strand.” 

Glynren shakes his head. “Wait, wait-”

“Inside the pouch,” the manifestation continues. “You will find a folded letter and a tiny flute. Unfold the letter and note the markings in the top and bottom corners. These are the notes you need to play. Starting from the bottom right, play the notes in the correct order, clockwise this time. Upon completion of the tune, a magma mephit will appear, which will pose the following question: I’ss k’cha t’chiss n’aga? This is Ignan for ‘What is my name?’ The answer is: K’ha’ssji’trach’ash. Pronounce the name correctly, and the mephit will breathe on the letter. Stay clear because the little scamp can melt metal. Words will now appear on the letter’s surface, effectively turning the letter into a Scroll of True Resurrection. Use it to bring me back to life.” 

Groaning, Lae’zel sits a dead goblin. “Is it still talking?”

Fake Gale smiles. “Now repeat my instructions back to me please.” 

Glynren blinks. “W-wait, what?” 

“Come on,” the phantom goads. “Step one?”

Looking at the others, Glynren seeks help. Shadowheart held up her hands and shook her head. Lae’zel didn’t even bother looking up. “The pouch,” Wyll says, pointing to his chest.

“R-Right!” Glynren nods, looking back at the fake Gale. “Grab the pouch. Then, uh, unwind the string.” His sister leans over to him and whispers. “The purple string!” 

“Which way?” 

“Counterclockwise!” He was proud to remember that one. 

“Good,” Fake Gale smiles. “You’ll then have access to the letter and the flute. Then what?”

Glynren furrows his brows. “Play the notes.” 

“Starting from?”

“The bottom…” Again, Sephrin whispers to him. “...right.” 

“Which way?” 

“...clockwise?” 

“Exactly. Then?” 

Glancing at his sister, Glynren blinks. “Uh...the mephit appears, asks me a question, and I answer...uh…” 

Sephrin nods. “K’ha’ssji’trach’ash.” 

He points. “What she said.” 

Satisfied with this answer, the fake Gale nods and wishes them luck before disappearing. It takes Glynren all of five seconds to recover and lunge for the pouch. Delicately, he grabs the purple string.

“To the left,” Sephrin whispers. He nods, unwinding it with care. Gently, he takes out the flute and unfolds the letter.

Shadowheart cocks a brow. “Still think it’s awfully convenient he ‘needs’ to be brought back to life.”

Wyll folds his arms. “Wonder how many times it’s happened for him to have this all ready.”

His sister points out the notes he needs to play. The flute plays slightly out of tune, but it does the trick. The little miphet appears, flapping its wings rhythmically. When it asks its question, Glynre doesn’t even bother trying to answer. He looks to Sephrin to say the annoyingly long name. The miphet says a few words and words appear on the letter, just as fake Gale had said would happen. 

Within a few moments, the real Gale gasps, sitting up. He examines his hands and then starts laughing. “Never gets any easier.” 

Relief floods Glynren’s and Sephrin’s faces. Shadowheart flashes her brows. “Impressive.”

“Can we  _ please _ get moving?” Astarion groans. “I’ve had enough of these moronic goblins.”Several of the others mumble their agreements. 

As they make their way out of the temple, Sephrin remains quiet, dawdling behind. So many thoughts zip around her head. Bloodshed, crashing metal, death, Astarion’s lips...it was all too much to process at once. She glances up toward the vampire, who, while still looking rather pleased with himself, didn’t have quite the same spring in his step as before. Was something wrong? Was he hurt? Was he upset with what had happened? 

Astarion glances over his shoulder at her as if he knew she was staring. Flinching, she quickly looks away, missing the smirk that forms.

“It was a good thing you didn’t run away like your brother to, Sephrin,” he says rather loudly, looking toward Glynren. Said brother turns to look at him, wondering what he was going on about. Astarion flashes him a smile. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to save our poor Gale here without your help.”

Glynren scowls at him and turns away. While Gale starts defending Glynren, saying he’s sure Glyn would have come through for him, Astarion gives Sephrin a smug smile and a flash of his brow. 

As she studies his face, feels her heart racing as always. And yet, before she looks away, a little smile adorns her face. 

**Author's Note:**

> Also, in case any of you were hoping for smut in later installments, I'm going to disappoint you now. Nothing so explicit in these stories. But there are plenty of good stories on the site I can recommend ^_^


End file.
